


A debt repaid

by Quagswagging



Category: Spinning Silver - Naomi Novik
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Falling In Love, First Kiss, M/M, Post-Canon, Repaying Debt, Unlikely help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quagswagging/pseuds/Quagswagging
Summary: Mirnatius still woke up in the night from ghostly fire spreading in his veins, not quite there but all the same painful. The Staryk blood in Irina soothed that, stifled the fire for brief moments, but even then the fire could not be extinguished.And so Mirnatius knew there was only one last hope.True ice, true snow.The Staryk King.
Relationships: (hinted), Irina/Mirnatius (Spinning Silver), Miryem Mandelstam/The Staryk Lord, Miryem Mandelstam/Wanda Vitkus, The Staryk Lord/Mirnatius
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	A debt repaid

**Author's Note:**

> i finished the book within two days after I got it for christmas, so I was very tempted to write this! I was honestly hoping for more interactions between Mirnatius and the Staryk king - and then this just kinda wrote itself.
> 
> Not sure if anyone else even wants this pairing, but there might be a part two!
> 
> Please be kind, this is my first fic out of my usual fandom for a loooong time!

Mirnatius sat staring at his hands, his palms trembling on his lap. Irina was sat next to him, ever so infuriatingly beautiful and infuriatingly plain at the same time. She no longer wore Staryk silver, but Mirnatius had no trouble seeing her beauty now, even without the accessories of magic. Yet he knew she saw all of this still as her tsarina duties, and that would not change. She did not love him, not as a wife would a husband, but maybe cared about him as a friend. As an ally. 

But that was all. 

Irina had started to talk about producing an heir a few weeks ago, but somehow Mirnatius could not get himself to bed her, not when she saw this as her tsarina duty and not an act of love. 

In all honesty, sex scared him. When the Chernobog had still been settled in his belly, anyone he had desired had ended up dead, by his - or well, the demon’s- doing. So he had stopped desiring people, had stopped desiring sex, and it had probably saved some lives. 

But even now, when Irina had banned the demon from him, Mirnatius still woke up in the night from ghostly fire spreading in his veins, not quite there but all the same painful. The Staryk blood in Irina soothed that, stifled the fire for brief moments, but even then the fire could not be extinguished. 

And so Mirnatius knew there was only one last hope.

True ice, true snow.

The Staryk King.

Mirnatius knew Irina was familiar with the Staryk Queen, the girl who could turn silver into gold, and knew his queen had hidden away in the Staryk world when his demon had threatened to have her. 

And so he went to his tsarina for help.

Irina had been hesitant of course, unsure what Mirnatius alterior motive was as she was still somewhat wary of him, even after the demon had gone. But she had also heard him cry out in the middle of the night, in pain and in fright, and she understood what Mirnatius needed.

“Wait until the first day of snow, then go to the house of the Mandelstams. The Staryk King will bring his Queen to see her family. You can find him there, whatever your reason might be. But come back after and don’t forget your duties” Irina had told him, before turning to her maid, who instantly scurried off and came back with a crown of half melted silver.

“If you need to convince him, return the silver that is truly his.” Irina said, handing him the once proud crown, Mirnatius took it with trembling fingers, the metal cooling his hot skin. He felt a coolness crawl under his skin already, but again it was not enough. 

It took another two weeks before the winter arrived. Irina woke him early one morning, telling him the snow had come, and it was time for him to go. 

Mirnatius went alone, hiding himself in plain clothes and a dull blue cape, the hood far over his head to hide his Tatar complexion and his green eyes. No one would even spare a look at the hooded and weary traveller passing through their villages, and that was just what he needed. If anyone recognized him as the tsar, then there would be trouble.

He arrived at the little house in the white woods a little before sunrise. The little house, which turned out to be a bustling, busy farm, seemed an unlikely place to find the king of the Staryk. A strongly build girl with blonde hair frowned at him from where she was looking over some goats with a smaller boy at her side, the distrust clear in his features.

“Who are you and what brings you to our farm.” she asked, the frown not leaving her face. Mirnatius took off his hood.

“I am Tsar Mirnatius. I am here to see the Staryk King.” he said, voice strong. The girl’s eyes widened.

“You are early.” she said, hesitating before bowing her head slightly. The boy next to her seemed confused, but then stepped forward and placed his hand on Mirnatius’s horse - a well trained horse which was not used to such affection, yet it snorted happily and leaned into the touch.

“I’ll take him. Give him some food.” the boy said, eyes wide. Mirnatius got off his steed and nodded.

“Thank you, you will be repaid.” he said, then turning back to the girl, who pointed to the farmhouse.

“You can wait inside, your majesty.” she said, but she did not seem terribly impressed by his presence. An older woman came out of the house, a startled look coming to her face when she spotted Mirnatius.

“Y-your Majesty…” she said, curtsying uncomfortably. Mirnatius nodded curtly.

“I am here to see the Staryk King. “ he said, following after the nervous woman and into the house. They had him sit on a big, simple chair, handing him tea with sweet cherries. Mirnatius did not speak as he waited, ignoring the waiting eyes as he stared at his hands. 

Finally, there was a loud knock, so loud it could not be human. The girl with the blonde hair went to open, the elderly woman eagerly behind her. 

A whole army of Staryks stood on a road to the farm, and Mirnatius instinctively felt panic in his chest, the feelings of the pain when the Staryk, and their queen, had burned him with gold. The Staryk King’s eyes instantly fell on him.

“You.” he said, voice like an upcoming storm. Mirnatius stood, clenching his hands so his hands stopped trembling. The girl on the Staryk king’s side, Miryem, if Mirnatius remembered correctly, took an angry step towards him.

“You will not hurt my people.” she said fiercely. Mirnatius swallowed thickly.

“I’m not here to cause problems. I do not wish for war.” he spoke. “I am here for a more personal reason.” he added awkwardly. Something along the lines of surprise crossed over the king’s icy features, before melting away again as quick as it had arrived.

“We will talk outside, alone.” the king decided. Mirnatius nodded in answer. The Staryk queen gave them a wary look, but then walked over to the farm’s inhabitants, her family.

Mirnatius followed the king made of ice outside, were they stood under a tree with white leafs and silver flowers. The Staryk stared but did not speak, and so Mirnatius had to.

“The Chernobog has left my body, but fire remains.” Mirnatius said, raising his green eyes to meet the Staryk’s icy whites.”I can not heal myself.” the Staryk let out a rather impatient noise.

“Why would I help you, mortal tsar? I should trample you for what you did to my kingdom.” the Staryk king spoke at last. Mirnatius set his jaw grumpily. 

“It was not my choice. The Chernobog wanted to take your kingdom, not me. I never wanted to be tortured all my life. I never wanted to get burned from the inside out whenever I did something that did not please the demon. I never wanted to see my father and brother killed, or myself on that stupid throne - so don’t you dare blame me!” he exclaimed hotly. The Staryk king didn’t even blink, but then nodded.

“Tell me what ails you, and for a rightful return, I will help you.” he then spoke. Mirnatius stared at him, his chest still heaving in anger.

“The fire remains in me at night, burns me while I sleep.” he whispered brokenly. “My tsarina has Staryk blood, and it soothes the pain away. But it keeps coming back.” he explained. The Staryk King’s thin, white lips pursed.

“You want me to chase the fire away?” the Staryk king spoke. Mirnatius’s pride would normally have kept him from ever doing what he did then, but he was desperate. The tsar fell to his knees, looking up at the other ruler with tearful green eyes.

“I beg you. I will give you whatever you want in return.” he whispered. He knew this could end badly. The Staryk king could demand his kingdom, his people, anything he wanted.

“I don’t desire much.” The Staryk King muttered, looking down on Mirnatius still on his knees. Mirnatius let out a sound too close to a sob for the tsar’s liking. 

“Please…” he whispered, closing his eyes and leaning in to rest his forehead against the back of the Staryk’s right hand. When he looked up, the Staryk king was looking to the house, to where his wife was sitting with her family, the blonde girl that had greeted Mirnatius hugging the queen tightly, a little too tightly. 

“What do you desire.” Mirnatius whispered up at the Staryk king.

“Gold.” the king answered, but he didn’t mean it. Mirnatius shook his head.

“Your queen can give you all the gold you want.” he answered. “Tell me what you want!” he hissed. The Staryk king sharply looked down on him, before kneeling down with him. 

“There is one thing I desire, but who is to say you can give that to me?” the King snapped. Mirnatius groaned.

“Just tell me, you fool!” he gasped out, impatient and scared and in pain. The Staryk’s eyes were narrow now, the ice of his face seeming to melt and reform faster now.

“I want love.” he snarled. Now it was Mirnatius’s time to be surprised.

“Love?” he whispered. “But your wife…” he trailed off. 

“My wife loves the girl with the blonde hair. She is my queen but does not love me in the way I need.” the Staryk King answered, tense now. The Staryk king’s words were familiar to Mirnatius, for it was his story too. 

“I see.” Mirnatius spoke anxiously. He did not know how to give the king of ice love, but he knew he had to if he ever wanted to get rid of the hot embers in his belly. In an act of despair, Mirnatius tilted his head up, his hand blindly clutching at a cheek of ice before he smashed his lips over the Staryk king’s.

The Staryk’s lips were not as cold as he expected, just cool and soothing. Mirnatius gasped as the coolness started to spread through him, down his throat and into his chest, spreading through his limbs until finally, the embers Chernobog had left in him sizzled and burned out. 

He was truly free now. 

With the fire and pain was gone. Mirnatius pulled away from the Staryk king’s lips just as the door to the farm opened and Miryem stepped out.

“Is everything alright, husband dear?” she asked. The Staryk king, seemed dazed, gave a small nodd.

“The tsar is healed.” the king spoke. “I will come for you in the morning, until then you can stay with your family.” he continued. Miryem bowed her head.

“Thank you, husband, I’ll will await you in the morning.” she answered. The Staryk nodded, then turned to glance at Mirnatius briefly before heading to his steed - a strange, clawed deer that looked terrifying to the tsar. 

“Wait! I did not repay my debt!” Mirnatius called as the Staryk king got on his steed and turned the animal back to the Staryk road. The Staryk didn’t move for a moment, but then turned to look over his shoulder.

“You gave me what I desired, your debt has been repaid.” he spoke, voice sounding softer, more gentle, than before. But before Mirnatius could speak again, the King of Ice was gone.

Mirnatius went home almost straight after, absentmindedly thanking his hosts with a handful of gold coins, ruffling the hair of the boy who had looked after his horse, before leaving in a rush.

That night, he slept without fire, but with the faint caress of ice in his mind, and in his heart. He tried to get the Staryk king out of his mind, but he lingered there.

_”Your debt has been repaid.”_

Mirnatius lingered over those words for months on end, until finally, he had come to a conclusion.

He had to see the Staryk king again.

**Author's Note:**

> FInd me on tumblr: bwoahtastic


End file.
